Born in The Aftermath 1
by ceru689
Summary: This is my interpretation of Ruth's viewpoint of her situation taken from the TV drama Threads. Broadcast on BBC TV in 1984/85. Threads was written by Barry Hines and directed by Mick Jackson. Although I have made some minor changes to my version of the story, I have kept to the actual plot.


_**Born In The Aftermath**_

This is my interpretation of Ruth Beckett's viewpoint of her situation, taken from the TV drama '_Threads_' broadcast on BBC TV 1984/85. _'Threads' _was written by Barry Hines and directed by Mick Jackson, who went on to direct the 1992 film _'The Bodyguard.' _Although I have made some minor changes to my story, I have kept to the main point of the actual plot.

_**Prologue:**_

As I sit around the crackling fire holding my new born baby Jane, this particular day, I glance around at the faces of the twelve other people who are sat in silence, with the only noise being the howling wind outside, I wonder just what they are thinking and feeling. Here is my story and how I came to be here.

It was a sunny, but chilly, Saturday afternoon in mid-March when my fiancé Jimmy Kemp had driven the two of us out to the countryside, a few miles from the hustle and bustle of Sheffield, our home town, which was the 4th largest city in the UK. We both sat in his Ford Cortina car, which was parked at the top of the hill, looking down at the sprawling city of Sheffield below us with its heavy industry, endless rows of terrace houses, to name but a few.

'It's really nice here, peaceful,' I remarked to Jimmy as I sipped my coffee, which I poured from the Thermos flask into two cups as the song _Johnny Be Goode_ played quietly on the car radio, though the peace was interrupted by a military jet flying overhead, no doubt from the RAF base at Finningley, which was 17 miles from Sheffield.

'Yeah,' replied Jimmy.

'Are you alright?'

'I'd sooner have had tea; I'm not as keen of coffee as you.'

'Sorry.'

'It doesn't matter.'

'Are you sure you're fine about everything?' I asked Jimmy. 'It's just you sound quiet, like there's something on your mind.'

'Nah, I'm okay,' replied Jimmy smiling at me.

'I hope you are, with everything happening so quickly.'

Jimmy sighed. 'Alright I'll be honest with you it did come as a shock to me finding out you were pregnant, but it didn't take long for the news to sink in, and now I'm looking forward to being a father.'

'You mean that?'

'I do. In fact I have something for you,' he said bending down and pulling something out from under the driving seat.

'Oh it's lovely!' I replied opening the red, hard plastic box to reveal a silver, heart-locket, when opened had space for two photographs.

'Let me put it on,' suggested Jimmy as he undid the clasp of the silver chain and fastened the locket around my neck.

'I'll put a picture of us on one side and our baby on the other,' I said beaming at Jimmy.

'Great,' he replied sounding as enthusiastic as me. I hugged him. Jimmy was just about to turn the ignition when a news bulletin came on about the on-going crisis in Iran following the Soviet Union's invasion, with the plans of seizing control of Iran and turning it into a Satellite state.

'Not that again,' I said in an off-hand way, and turned off the radio.

'Hey, leave that, half-time scores (football results) will be on soon, I don't want to miss 'em,' said Jimmy sounding slightly annoyed as he switched the radio back on. I sighed as I leaned back in my seat as Jimmy waited for the half-time scores to be announced.

'Yeah, nice on lads,' Jimmy announced punching the air on hearing Sheffield United scored 2-0 against Queen's Park Rangers, or QPR, as they were better known. I tutted and rolled my eyes. Jimmy let out a chuckle, turned the ignition and drove off.

'I'll be seeing you, soon eh?' said Jimmy as he parked outside my house.

'Aren't you coming in for a cuppa?' I asked him.

Jimmy shook his head. 'I've gotta get back, ta for asking.'

I nodded then kissed Jimmy goodbye and told him I'd see him later tonight.

'Ruth, is that you?' Mum called out as she heard the closing of the front door.

'Yeah it's me,' I replied.

'Did you and Jimmy have a good day?'

'It was okay.'

'Where did you go?'

'Just a couple of miles out of town, up the hill,' I said, putting the Thermos flask on the table. 'What d' you think of this?' I asked showing her the necklace Jimmy gave me.

'It's lovely, but I hope he isn't throwing money away on things you don't need.'

'Mum_'

'You're only twenty-two, and pregnant with his child_'

'Twenty-two and a half,' I corrected. 'Jimmy is twenty-four; we're both adults, we've been together for nearly two years, we're not fifteen year old school kids.'

Sure I could see Mum's concern about me having an unplanned pregnancy, before getting married, and indeed I wanted to do things the 'old-fashioned' way, by finding a place to live, then getting married, followed by a baby, but things don't always work out that way, at least Jimmy and I had decided to get married, soon, after finding out I was pregnant a couple of weeks ago.

'I know that, but what are you both doing with regards to getting a place to live?'

'Jimmy's taking me to view a flat on Wednesday – he reckons it's only a short drive from here.'

'Oh, well that's good,' said Mum, assured.

'Anyway, where's Dad?'

'He's just in the garden, planting some more bulbs for summer,' replied Mum looking pointing out of the window to where Dad was in the garden kneeling on an old cushion digging up soil.

Later on Jimmy took me out for an Indian meal, something that was a favourite of ours.

'It's delicious this, I'm glad I picked this one,' Jimmy remarked picking up a forkful of Madras, chicken curry.

'Yeah, well make the most of it, because it'll probably be the last time we'll be eating out – for a while anyway,' I cautioned.

'Why? I thought you liked Indian food.'

'I do, it's just that we have to prioritise now that we have a baby on the way, and there's the flat, as well as the wedding.'

'We only eat out once a week, if that.'

'Yes, but we need to save every penny we get, and your nights out with your mates will have to stop too.'

Jimmy rolled his eyes. 'Bloody hell, woman, I only have the odd pint with the lads on a Friday, after work, sometimes a Saturday as well. Stop putting a downer on things, I've come here to enjoy myself.'

'I don't mean to, it's just my Mum's been going on at me again.'

'Well you can tell your Mum to stop worrying, we'll be fine.'

'I'm looking forwards to seeing the flat,' I said.

'Yeah, I'm picking the keys up on Wednesday morning.'

After Jimmy and I had eaten our meal, we chatted for a while, afterwards I got a taxi home.

Mum and Dad were in the living room watching television, I joined them, but neither of us spoke as they were engrossed in watching a film, after the film had finished the news came on, repeating what had been on earlier about the Soviet/Iran crisis. At around midnight all us went to bed, though whilst Mum and Dad were sleeping peacefully in their bedroom I was sat on my bed making a list of things Jimmy and I would be needing for our flat, plus things for the baby, as the radio quietly played music in the background. I frowned as I added more and more items to that list.

On Wednesday Jimmy was allowed to take an extended lunch break from his work as a joiner as was I from my supermarket, checkout job, so that Jimmy could drive us to the flat.

'Well, what d' you think?' he asked me after we'd viewed the flat with its living room, which was quite big, spacious kitchen with room for a dining table, and two bedrooms, that weren't massive, but of a decent size to fit a double bed into, plus a wardrobe, dresser drawer and two bedside cabinets.

'Nice,' I replied grinning.'

'The walls are in a bit of a state.'

'That's only because they need redecorating, the bathroom and kitchen look fairly new.'

'The council replaced them last year. Hey come and look here,' said Jimmy looking out of the sitting room window. 'There's a park down there, our kids can play there.'

'Kids, you're jumping the gun a bit, aren't you? I only want one, well for the time being anyway,' I replied as I looked outside of the window at the park with its grassy playing fields surrounding it, and saw a mother pushing her young toddler on the swing.

'I was only speaking…what's the word?' asked Jimmy.

'Hypothetically,' I replied.

'Yeah, that's right,' Jimmy said in a teasing way as he stepped closer to me and we both looked out of the window. 'I could have an aviary down there as well.'

'You and your birds,' I replied half-laughing as I rolled my eyes.

We had another look around at the place, the both of us full of chatter on how on how we should decorate the rooms. Once we'd seen enough of the flat Jimmy dropped me at the supermarket, before returning to work.

'How did you both get on looking at the flat?' asked Mum when the two of us were seated around the table waiting for Dad to come and join us for dinner.

'Great, Jimmy is keen to get started on it.'

'That makes a change,' replied Dad cynically. 'He's never usually that keen, Ruth.'

'Leave it Dad.'

'Yeah, Henry_'

'Shh, you two the news is on,' said Dad interrupting Mum. 'And I want to listen.'

'….US satellites picked up images of Soviet convoys moving through northern Iran, The US have stated unless the USSR withdraws from Iran, USA will be forced to send troops in, but this will only be as a last resort. For the time being the US is hoping the Iranian's and the Russian's to come to an amicable agreement….In other news a man has been killed on the M1 motorway after his car collided with a military tank on its way to RAF Finningley.….'

'Typical of the US to go in,' said Dad shaking his head. 'We'll probably end up getting roped in next.'

'Don't start that again Henry, it's probably just a storm in a teacup, I'm sure it'll all blow over,' said Mum.

'I very much doubt it, whenever there's a conflict anywhere in the world and the US become involved in anything we end up joining them.'

'D' you think it'll get worse Dad?'

'What?'

'What we're talking about, the situation in Iran.'

'I don't know,' replied Dad shrugging his shoulders.

'Anyway, back to what we were talking about, Jimmy wants to get started on the flat this weekend. Both of us are gonna start by stripping the wallpaper.'

'Hmm,' replied Dad.

Saturday came and Jimmy picked me up just after ten in the morning.

'I've got two wallpaper scrapers in the back, as well as a radio to kill the boredom' Jimmy said with a grin seconds of me getting into his car. 'Mum made us a flask of tea and sandwiches too.'

'How much wallpaper have these lazy, beggars put on?' I remarked after just scraping off a little of the old wallpaper in the living room. 'It's gonna take us forever to get this off.'

'I've counted five layers so far,' replied Jimmy. 'If it gets too much we can ask our folks to help us out.'

It seemed to take us forever to scrape the paper off one half of that first wall, already I was feeling fed-up, what else was annoying we didn't have any water to soften the paper, which would make scraping it off seem a far easier job. Because no one had been living in the flat for a while, the authorities turned the water off, just as they had with the gas and electricity, fortunately the radio Jimmy had brought with him was battery operated.

'What does your dad make of what's happening in Iran?' Jimmy asked.

'Every time the news comes on he's always asking us to keep quiet,' I replied half-laughing.

'My dad's the same. Mum's sick of hearing him going on about it.'

'What d' you think, of it?'

'To be honest I couldn't care less, it's nowt to do wi' us, just as long as they don't involve us,' replied Jimmy.

I nodded. We both carried on with the wallpaper scraping - only having a break for tea and sandwiches. When we'd both had enough of working we locked up the flat and went home. A week later Jimmy and his parents came over to visit my me and my parents for afternoon tea so we could all discuss the two of us getting married, the flat, and our baby that I would be giving birth to round about Christmastime. Fortunately neither of our fathers made reference to the Soviet Union/Iran situation that had come to dominate the headlines even more so recently.

For the next six weeks Jimmy and I used every spare moment we had working on the flat. I had to admit I really admired his enthusiasm and determination to get everything done. My dad, Jimmy's dad Arthur, his twelve year old brother Michael, even his fourteen year old sister Alison all helped us from time to time, a couple of times there were up to six of us doing various jobs on the flat. One day Michael and Alison were bickering and almost got into a fight, when we were working in the biggest bedroom that would be ours, because Alison accused Michael of taking the better of the two scrapers, when she was changing into old jeans, the one with 'teeth,' meaning the job could be done quicker and easier.

'Pack it in you two!' Arthur snapped at the two of them. 'Otherwise I'll take you home and you won't be allowed to come here again.'

Jimmy chuckled quietly under his breath, though he wasn't that quiet as his father heard.

'You can shut up 'an all, it's not funny, having to break up their fighting.'

'News just in…'

'Hold on a minute,' said Arthur turning up the volume on the radio. Michael and Alison were still squabbling. 'Shut up you two!'

'In response to the Soviets refusal to withdraw troops from the Iranian base in Mashhad the US have launched a strike against the Soviets using conventional weapons and B52 bombers – the Soviets have retaliated by launching a nuclear tipped warhead to destroy the incoming B52 bombers. The US has reacted by firing a single low-yield tactical weapon on the Soviet base. It is hoped that this will stop any further action being taken by the Soviets.'

'Bloody 'ell,' Arthur said shaking his head. 'They're mad, the lot of them.'

Jimmy looked at me half-smiling, shrugging his shoulders without speaking then carried on with the wallpaper stripping; Michael and Alison even stopped bickering and carried on with the task in hand. It felt good seeing the old wallpaper finally stripped off in all of the rooms, though the next job was redecorating and putting new wallpaper up. To save time and money Jimmy and I both agreed that we'd paint the walls magnolia, but wallpaper one – well for the time being anyway. That same night when I was in bed I closed my eyes and visualising how the flat would look when all done up, with new furniture, especially for Christmas, which was months away, and by then our baby would be born, gave me a strong sense of optimism. Yes I could just see it all now, everything brand-new, the Christmas tree in the corner with its lights glowing, which at six feet tall would be the same height, or just slightly taller than Jimmy. That was the last thing I thought of, before drifting off to sleep.

One Friday afternoon after I'd finished work at just afternoon, I decided to take a look around the shops, to see what would look good in the flat. When I noticed a large crowd of people stood together, not moving, of course I wondered what had caught their attention. I carefully eased my way through the crowd to see what was going on, and on a podium stood a young woman speaking, loud and clearly into a microphone. I moved for a closer look at the woman and saw she was leading a C.N.D campaign.

'…..You cannot win a nuclear war. At best lives will be lost, at worst total annihilation. Industry will be lost as we know it_'

'Industry, there is no industry in Sheffield,' a bearded man standing not far from me shouted angrily. Everyone else cheered in support of him.

'If money hadn't been spent on weapons – there would be an industry, there would be better healthcare and education. It is not only lives that will be lost there will be a massive impact on the environment. And what will the Russian's have gained by total destruction? Nothing….'

The woman, along with the other protestors continued arguing back and forth, with the people in the crowd, I carefully eased myself through that large group of people and made my way into Mothercare where I must've spent less than a minute looking at the baby things, before leaving. All that racket from outside dampened my enthusiasm for doing anything else. As well as protests going on in my city of Sheffield, they were also happening in London and any other big city in the UK. In the US and East Germany anti-Soviet demonstrations, and even riots took place.

'Where's Dad going?' I asked Mum a week or so later.

'I told you, he's picking your gran up from the hospital.'

'Why's he doing that, I didn't think she was well enough to be let out, yet?'

'It's just a…..precautionary measure.'

Mum rolled her eyes when she saw the puzzled look on my face.

'Haven't you been listening to the news, they have to do this in case of emergencies,' she said in an off-hand way.'

At first I wondered what she was on about then it dawned on me.

'If you're talking about what's been going on in Iran with the Russian's and the Americans, I thought that had stopped, I mean they haven't been fighting.'

'Yes that's true, but it could start up again, and because our troops are out there supporting the Americans they could get hurt that's why they need the beds, and of course if anything happens here, in Sheffield, people could get seriously hurt.'

On Wednesday 25th May Jimmy and I were at the flat papering the last of the rooms, I was really pleased to see it nearly finished, of course we needed to carpet and furnish it.

'That doesn't matter, Ruth, we've done the worst part we just need to paper the wall in the baby's room, then that's it done. Remember I'm a joiner me and Bob could make a cot for the baby, as well as other furniture – we'll save a fortune,' he enthused.

'I can't believe how it's nearly coming together,' I replied smiling at Jimmy. The two of us spread a sheet of wallpaper on the paste table, he'd borrowed from his dad, the two us were brushing on the wallpaper paste when a PSA announcement was broadcast on the radio, as part of an exercise done to prepare the public of a possible nuclear war. Jimmy paused without movement, I did the same thing. I looked at his face when the announcement was over and it was ashen and frozen in shock.

This had to be serious, normally when there had been any reports about the Iran/Soviet crisis Jimmy more or less brushed them off and paid little attention to them – as did I, though for the last few weeks I had to admit I had taking more notice of news reports. I don't know if it was the look on Jimmy's face or what I had just heard on the radio, but I began to cry.

'Hey come on it'll be alright,' Jimmy assured, hugging me. 'Nowt's gonna happen.'

'How d' you know, how can you be sure?'

Jimmy sighed. 'You know what these news reporters are like for scaremongering, they like the public to sit up and take notice of them, and as we all know it's what sells newspapers. Yesterday Bob was telling me when he went to the shop at eight in the morning he was lucky to get the last paper. Never mind that look at how many people have been panic-buying food, with some shops charging double 'an all.'

Perhaps Jimmy was right; all of this that had been going on had been scaremongering, just to get people worked up, for nothing – sensationalism that's what it was. I dried my eyes and the two of us looked out of the window at the city below us all lit up and not too far from us two fire engines drove out from the fire station.

On Thursday 26th May I woke up feeling awful, due to morning sickness, this wasn't the first time I'd woken up feeling this way, and normally I recovered quickly, but today I felt worse than usual, after I'd finished throwing up in the bathroom I slowly made my way downstairs, wearing my nightdress and dressing gown and sat at the table in the dining room, where Mum was pouring out cups of tea for her and Dad.

'No, not for me, I feel awful,' I said putting my hand over the cup stopping Mum from pouring me any tea. 'I feel awful I think I'll go back to bed, I don't feel like going into work today.'

'Never mind love, I'll 'phone in and say you can't make it,' said Mum picking up the receiver. 'That's funny the line's dead, I can't dial out.'

'That's because we've been cut off,' Dad replied.

'Cut off? But I thought we paid our last 'phone bill,' said Mum.

Dad rolled his eyes. 'We have paid it. It's not just us that have been cut off, the rest of the street has, the only 'phone lines left open are those for emergency only – for the time being anyway,' Dad picked up his newspaper and carried on drinking his tea.

By half-past-eight I managed to get dressed, but still wasn't feeling well enough to go into work. As I sat in the dining room with my parents listening to the radio our usual, morning, breakfast show was interrupted with the words: 'ATTACK WARNING RED! ATTACK WARNING RED,' followed by an announcement: 'The USSR has launched an Inter-continental Ballistic Missile against the United Kingdom. NASA detected the Soviet Missiles….' Hearing this sent Mum into a panic, Dad tried to listen to rest of the news he couldn't hear anything the radio had stopped working, not only that the iron that Mum had switched on blew a fuse.

'We've got to get down to the cellar quick!' said Dad, in a firm, controlled voice, that I knew masked panic. 'Muriel you come and give me a hand with your gran, Ruth you get down to the cellar and make sure everything is ready.'

'Right Mum, you have to come with us,' said Dad going into gran's room and with my help easing her out of bed, she was awake, and had been sat up listening to the radio, until it was interrupted by the EMP (according to Dad) after the missile had been detonated.

'What's going on? What's happening?' Gran cried in alarm.

'We're taking you to the cellar – you'll be safer down there.'

'Why? I don't want to go down there.'

'Come on, we don't have much time,' replied Dad.

Within minutes there was a loud explosion, followed by a rumble, like nothing I'd heard causing the whole house to shake. It was like an earthquake. Mum and Dad managed to get Gran safely down to the cellar and into a bed we'd set up down there. Dad blocked off the door so that none of the exploding debris could get in. I covered my ears not wanting to hear anything. I covered my ears to sounds of shattering glass that along with the smell of smoke was trying to make its way into the cellar. Gran was screaming, distressed and confused with all that was going on, Mum and Dad tried to keep her calm though they were equally afraid as her. I sat there fearful, that were all going to get sucked up into that mushroom cloud. Those terrifying sounds of seemed to go on and on, without let-up. When the noises did die down it didn't mean we could let our guard down and relax, all of us sat there expecting another bomb to explode over Sheffield. Time seemed to grind to a halt, as we couldn't leave the safety of our cellar, due to the dangerous effects of the fallout.

We tried to make the best of our situation but found it difficult to adjust, with having none of the usual comforts that we all took for granted such as electricity. We had to ration our food. Even so I found I couldn't face eating anything.

'Come on Ruth, eat something,' said Mum handing me a plate with a pitiful helping of tinned beans and sausage. I refused, feeling too numb, with all that had happened, and the fact I hadn't heard any news about Jimmy, I began to presume the worst, thinking he must be dead.

'I feel so ashamed of myself, messing my bed like a little baby!' Gran sobbed.

'It's alright, I'll help you get cleaned up,' Mum replied. 'Ruth, come and give us a hand.'

I took one look at the bed and Gran and just couldn't face helping and turned away.

'Ruth, give your mother a hand!' Dad snapped at me.

Poor Gran died in her sleep a day or so after her embarrassing accident. I don't know if it was because her illness had been made worse by the traumatic events we'd all experienced, affecting her, the most because of her age, or old age itself, or perhaps worse the radioactive fallout had seeped into our cellar. We moved her body to another part of the house, and covered it over with a blanket. I hadn't noticed anything until I looked up from where we'd placed Gran's body, and saw our lovely home been destroyed, with the roof blown off – just by one bomb. I slowly stepped outside into a street that I did not recognise. Other houses like ours had suffered damage, most of the other homes and shops had been reduced to rubble. Only a few were still stood, but even they had gaping holes where the roofs used to be. Seeing the houses in my street ruined was upsetting enough, but the worst thing I saw were the dead and charred bodies of my neighbours who had been unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast. As I slowly wandered down the street I saw a dozen or so other people who had survived this awful, awful tragedy walking around, dazed and traumatised, one of the images that stuck in my mind was a mother holding her dead baby that had been burned, she just sat staring into space. A billboard poster for life insurance featuring a golden-haired toddler, wearing blue dungarees, smiling, and the caption: 'Standard Life: For All Your Life, caught my eye, I shook my head, rolled my eyes and laughed cynically. What use was life insurance now? I'd seen enough, I had to get help for my parents.

As I walked further along I followed a group of other people who were making their way towards the hospital, which was in the city of Sheffield, which hadn't been destroyed by the bomb and still stood. I looked around at the people there and saw their injuries that had been covered by dirty, home-made bandages such as towels and blankets. It was pandemonium. People were pushing and shoving, to be treated first, to make matters worse drugs, bandages, and anything else needed to treat patients injuries had long gone, there was crying and screaming from those suffering real agony, such as needing limbs amputating but from there was no proper procedure to carry out an operation on a patient who needed it.

I watched in horror as one man had his leg amputated with a saw, and the only thing he could do to help with the pain was to bite down on a rag. Unable to take anymore, I ran out of that hospital and went back home to see if anyone had come to help my parents. The first thing I did after leaving the hospital was go to Jimmy's house, which was on the way to mine, that had been destroyed too, and found the burned body of his mother, in what used to be the living room. There was no sign of his other family members. I wandered into Jimmy's bird aviary and carefully picked up from the charred remains his book of birds, which only suffered slight damage I looked through the pages and all were intact. I slowly returned home and walked into the front room where my dead gran was still covered by a blanket.

'Mum, Dad,' I called out nervously as I wandered around the house, I carefully made my way down to the cellar and gasped in horror at the dead bodies of my parents, after having a closer look I soon realised they had been murdered.

I screamed and ran out of the cellar; I ran from my house, sobbing, I wanted to get as far away from here as possible, from the house that I could no longer call mine anymore.

After leaving that house I spent the days searching for food, and at night slept wherever I could, in disused buildings that hadn't been as badly damaged as others, I wasn't alone, as other people had the same idea as me.

More time had passed, though I hadn't a clue what day, or even what month it was, as the sky was covered over due to the dense radioactive dust, shutting out any sunlight, watches and clocks no longer functioned as they were burned out by the EMP, even old-fashioned timepieces that had worked mechanically eventually stopped and no one bothered to put them right as they no longer knew if it was night or day. Some people reckoned it must be the summer, but it felt freezing, just like winter, and it started getting dark early. Later, from what I heard, other people were leaving Sheffield in order to find food and were travelling to Buxton, a town twenty miles south of Sheffield, when we arrived there two policemen ushered me and about half-a-dozen other people, whose faces I didn't take the time to look at, towards a house they had found for us to stay, and knocked on the door and it was answered by an old man who looked in his seventies who opened it just enough to poke his head out.

'George Langley?' asked one of the policemen.

'Aye, what d' you want?' replied the old man with hostility.

'Under the new law you've been designated_'

'I'm not having no strangers in here,'

'According to my records you have four spare bedrooms_'

'Aye and they're stoppin' spare 'an all. You can't just walk into people's homes – it's not right_'

'We're not here to argue the rights and wrongs of it,' said the other policeman in a more forceful manner as he gestured for us to go in.

'It's dangerous, they could bring in all sorts of diseases and contamination with them,' Mr Langley protested as we all reluctantly went inside the man's home, which, oddly enough, looked untouched by the blast. Once the policemen were sure we were 'settled in' they left, but no sooner had they done so, old Mr Langley threw us all out of his home.

'Gone on, get out of it the lot 'o yer!' he shouted grabbing what meagre possessions people had and throwing them out into the street. To be honest I didn't want to stay in that grumpy, old man's house, after the way he 'welcomed' us all. I picked up my small bag, containing basic food supplies some had spilled onto the ground I scrambled to pick them up, before anyone else saw me. It was vital that I held onto what food I had as food was in short supply and had been rationed and was controlled by the local councils. I hurried away, taking care not to fall, as the last thing I wanted was to cause myself an injury. The rotting corpses of the dead were still lying in the streets, towns, and anywhere else unburied as those who were had survived were too weak to bury the dead, and burning them wasn't an option as fuel was scarce. A man, one of the soldiers, who had been assigned to keep everything in order told me one day that those who came into contact with the dead, were susceptible to all types of diseases such as cholera and typhoid, as their resistance to infection was low and there were no medicines or drugs to cure or prevent any illnesses, of course this meant that those people who went near any of those dead bodies, wouldn't be alive for much longer.

One day I was eating soup that had been served to me from a battered, tin bowl, when a man approached me.

'Ruth? It's Ruth isn't it?' he asked me.

I nodded. 'How d' you know me?'

'I'm Bob, Jimmy's mate you met me at the Christmas party last year.'

At first I didn't recognise him, as he looked much older than I recalled. Perhaps that's what nuclear radiation had done to him – and everyone else.

'Oh yes, I remember now. D' you know what happened to Jimmy?'

Bob shook his head. 'The last time I saw him was….'

'What?'

'Oh erm….it doesn't matter, I can't remember,' Bob replied shrugging his shoulders.

'You mean the Thursday they dropped the bomb?' I asked.

Bob nodded slowly, and looked away, as if feeling both guilty and embarrassed.

'The last time I saw Jimmy was after the bomb had gone off he ran into the street trying to get to you.'

'We were supposed to be getting married in July.'

'I know, he told me about you both getting engaged.'

'His mum's dead, so is Michael, though I haven't a clue where his dad and Alison are. They weren't there,' I said. 'I've lost all of my family too.'

'So have I, my mum, dad, both brothers are dead, so is Sammy, my oldest brothers girlfriend – they were going to be married this year 'an all.'

'I'm still hungry, that soup wasn't enough,' Bob remarked after a short while.

'There isn't going to be any more, everything's being rationed. Remember?'

'Oh yeah, five hundred calories, a thousand for people who work,' replied Bob, half-laughing, in a cynical way.'

'Is that what they're serving us, five hundred calories? How did you find that out?'

'Just what I heard someone say a couple of days ago.'

That was typical any news was always second-hand from 'someone else,' and all anyone could do was to take what was said as being right, as there was no other way of finding out anything. We only ever questioned those officials when it was absolutely necessary, as we had to take them at their word. Our usual means of communication that we took for granted had been lost, there was no television, radio, or newspapers. What was worse for those months after the attack everyone had to manage without electricity, running water and sanitation, no one had any idea when things would return to 'normal,' if ever.

'We could eat this,' suggested Bob, looking at a dead sheep that was lying on the grass dead, I was surprised no one else had got to it first.

'This weather must've killed it,' I remarked.

'Cold weather doesn't kill sheep, no matter how low temperatures drop, they're hardy animals,' replied Bob.

'It must've been affected by the radiation – it'll be contaminated_'

'I think it's safe,' replied Bob trying to assure me. 'It'll just be the fur that's been affected – as long as we don't eat that we'll be okay, one of us can wear it as a coat.'

I looked at Bob, and at the dead sheep, and watched as Bob took out a small knife from his pocket and skinned that dead sheep, picked up a leg, and gestured for me to eat the rest, I reluctantly picked up a piece of raw meat and bit into it. Other than being cold and bloody it didn't taste of anything 'unusual.' I'd eaten better I'd be lying to say I hadn't, but it was either eat that sheep or starve. The two of us made sure we didn't eat too much, and saved the rest for next time, just in case there wasn't any more food being given out.

A few weeks after we'd been forced to survive on that sheep, Bob left to go elsewhere, he offered to take me with him, but I refused as I wanted to stay in Buxton for the time being as I was quite far along in my pregnancy and didn't have the energy to travel anywhere. Of course I wasn't sure what month it was, but looking at my 'bump' I was quite far along now.

September was here, as we'd been told, and crops had to be harvested. But collecting any vegetables was nigh-on impossible as the dark and cold weather had stopped any growth of crops. Still all of us had no choice but to pull from the soil what we could in order to survive. This had to be done on a daily basis, and if there wasn't enough food to be found in one field, we had to trek for miles to another field.

November, I was working in a field, when I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, something I'd never felt before, at first I ignored it. Then after a short while it happened again and again and was becoming more regular. I suddenly realised I was having contractions! I was going to give birth! Something I'd never experienced before but I guessed this is what labour pains must have felt like. I hurried in search of the nearest building, where I could lie down and have my baby. Eventually I came upon a farm outbuilding, which was guarded by a big, Alsatian tied to a post, I backed away. The last thing I wanted was to get too near to that dog, which was barking menacingly at me. I staggered towards a derelict barn opened the door, the barn was empty apart from the bundles of hay, I collapsed on the floor, which, fortunately was softened by the hay that was scattered around and spent what seemed like an eternity screaming in pain, I pushed my baby into the world with no one there to help me, I even had to bite the umbilical cord with my teeth. When it was all over I carefully examined my baby – a girl who I named Jane, and sobbed with a mixture of relief to see my baby looked healthy, but also sadness as none of my family members or Jimmy could be here to see her.

I gently wrapped her in an old, grey blanket and held her close to my chest and leaned back against a bale of hay and closed my eyes. Now I was forced to raise my daughter in a post-nuclear world, without help from anyone. Finding food was more important than ever now that I had Jane. I was breast feeding Jane and needed to eat more in order for her to be fed, people did help a little, including the authorities, but there was only so much that could be given to us, as food was still limited, more often than not I had to go in search of food myself, I even had to eat and skin dead rats that a man gave me on one occasion. One day I was sat in a barn, holding Jane in my arms, I glanced at the other people who were sat huddled in front of the crackling fire, all trying to keep warm. I counted fourteen, including me and Jane, to be precise five women and seven men all sat in that group. Jane had been crying for most of the day, fortunately I managed to get her off to sleep, and when I did so the howls from that cold, biting wind could be heard. Nuclear winter was upon us now and by far this winter was the worst I'd ever known. I looked again at those other people and wondered just what they were feeling and thinking this particular day. I wanted to speak and ask them questions, but from the way they all sat in silence not speaking, clearly still in shock after all of these months, I left it at that. A man, who I guessed must have been in his mid-sixties, whistled a tune, that at first I couldn't make out what it was, until I listened some more and it caught my attention because it sounded like the Christmas carol: '_Hark The Herald Angels Sing.'_ The man then began to whistle another Christmas tune, _'O' Come All Ye Faithful.'_ I looked at him. That was my favourite Christmas Carol when I was at school, but why was this man whistling Christmas tunes?

'I love a good Christmas dinner. The wife always does a grand turkey dinner,' he said trying to sound upbeat, whilst looking at me.

'Is today Christmas day?' I asked quietly.

'Of course it is – the calendar on my watch says so. Look.'

I leaned forward and looked at the man's watch, which was a mechanical one that needed regular winding, and it read Dec 25th. I did wonder how he managed to keep track of time of that watch needed adjusting. He must've read my mind by his reply.

'After exactly twelve hours it slows down and I wind it up, that's how I know what time and day it is – twenty five years I've had this watch, and it's better than those new-fangled battery ones.' Everyone else sitting here didn't even look at the man when he was talking, they just sat staring at the wall. I was the only one who paid any attention to what he was saying, even if all I did was look at him, and nodded my head from time to time. That man whistled more Christmas tunes. I don't know why but I reached for the silver, heart-shaped locket with a silver chain that I was wearing under a blanket, coat and three heavy jumpers, which still failed to keep me warm. I stared at the heart-shaped locket and carefully opened it, on one side of the locket was a photograph of me and Jimmy and on the other side was a space, yet to be filled with the photograph of our baby, which I'd never had the chance to take, and doubted I would. Still clutching the locket I closed my eyes and tried to imagine our first Christmas together, we'd be married by now, and our baby Jane in our newly decorated and furnished flat, with the tall, Christmas tree in the corner, decorated in fairy light, shiny baubles and tinsel, both of our families would be there too, Jane would be sleeping peacefully in her cot, no doubt Michael and Alison would fight over what to watch on telly.

That's how Christmas should have been for me, not spent in a ramshackle, run-down barn sat with a bunch of strangers who I didn't even know from Adam, with just a fire to keep warm.

By now it had been seven months since Sheffield had been ruined by that nuclear bomb and still we were without electricity, running water, decent food and even proper communication. I didn't know how I managed to get through that time and be here. My heart was bleak as it had been for those months, but I didn't cry, it seemed pointless, I had no one to help me and now that I was a mother I had to be strong for my daughter.

Very little had changed by the time Jane was a year old, except the sun that I thought I'd never see again was now visible, but it the heat from it was stronger than it had been before. Perhaps this would help the ailing crops to grow, that was wishful thinking on my part, it was rumoured that because there were no proper fertilizers there would be no crops to harvest this year, and last years' harvest had been the last. Not only that, everyone was advised to keep covered up as it was reckoned the radiation from the sun could be harmful to our health.

The day, weeks, months and years passed, with me and Jane surviving as best we could, by working in the fields, alongside other people, and finding food were it was available. Things in general had improved only slightly, since that fatal attack many, many, years ago, but not enough for me, or anyone else to notice the changes. Nothing would ever be the same again. Someone estimated that the population in the UK had dwindled to roughly, only a few million, a big drop from fifty-odd million. I taught Jane to speak, read and write sentences by writing things down in a notebook, along with two pencils, that had erasers on the ends, and a pencil-sharpener I carried around for years and years.

For me it was important that my daughter's survival that she knew even just basic 'English' and 'Maths.' Still it wasn't enough, compared to the childhood she should have had. Poor Jane, she'd missed out on so much, not having a proper home, a bedroom of her own, good food to eat, toys, school, children her own age to play and have fun with.

Of course I told Jane about her father, Jimmy, and showed her the book of birds that was his, and about his family and mine, though I didn't want to tell her too much as it wasn't fair for her to find out that she hadn't grown up in a world that although wasn't perfect, was far better than the one she'd been brought into, a world she should have been happy in, a one where she would have lived, and made something of herself, not just existed. How could I tell her the truth about what had really happened that year she was born? How man's obsession with greed and power had taken what should have been hers and many others of her generation?

Today will probably be the last day I write anything down, as for a while I've been feeling weaker, largely due to the years of being exposed to radiation, anything I do, no matter how small takes much effort, even just writing a few words in my notebook. Time is running out for me, I doubt I'll last more than a few days, maybe a week at the most, so I'm doing this now while I can. I don't feel sorry for myself, despite knowing what's going to happen, I do feel sad that I won't be here to see Jane reach adulthood, and scared at the thought that she will be on her own with no one else to guide her, I did the best I could as a mother and raised her to stand on her own two feet. I caught sight of myself in a broken glass pane one day and was shocked to see how much I'd aged in just ten years, even so I was surprised to live long enough to see my daughter grow up, at least I'm grateful for that.

_**Epilogue:**_

To my daughter Jane,

If you find this note by the time you have finished reading it, you will find I have come to the end of this life, and have gone onto the next one. Leaving you is something I did not want to do, but it couldn't be helped, as I wanted to be with you for as long as possible. Please don't cry for me as you need to be strong and stand up for yourself in a world that is not always kind. Look into my bag you will find the pages telling the story of everything that happened from those months before you were born up until now, read the story if you want to, if not burn it. You will also find Jimmy's book of birds, and take from me the necklace. I think I have said told you what you need to know, if I haven't I'm sorry. Goodbye and good luck, my darling Jane.

My love as always,

Your mother Ruth,

XXXX.


End file.
